Eight is the number of people who have said they don't believe Rich has cancer.
I knew we would reach this point. I knew the day after he was diagnosed and he told me this was not going to beat him that we would eventually reach the curtain of doubt, disbelief and denial.
Stage Four Pancreatic Cancer has a life expectancy of 3-6 months. Rich is now two years, three months and 29 days past diagnosis. That is a very long time for people to wait. In the weeks immediately following diagnosis people were busy gearing up to mourn him, preparing to miss him, dealing with the soon to be absence of his light. That takes considerable energy. It's like winding a spring, and then waiting to release it in a high projecting arc. All the springs have been wound tight for too long and it's causing stress on the emotional metal.
People just aren't built to hover this long on the edge of the inevitable. Great movies are only a few hours long, the best mini-series wind it up and end in a few weeks, and soap operas are tolerable because they have multiple story lines and characters get killed off now and then. I'm trying to keep all this in mind as the curtain of doubt, disbelief and denial closes around me.
159.9 is the ICD code for pancreatic cancer (and possibly my next tattoo) It is a most important number because it ensures that everyone gets their money, therefore it is on every piece of medical paperwork that has Rich's name on it. That and his social security number pretty much define his existence as far as the medical community is concerned. No one would be more happy to discover that number wrong than the insurance companies. And as we all know, insurance companies are the epitome of Denial. Not only are they accepting 159.9, they are forking over HUGE bucks for it. If that's not proof, I don't know what is. That and his oncologist who had the biopsy done three times and the surgeon who's had a perfect visual three times.....
But that's not my issue. Or my point.
Announcing that you don't believe Rich has cancer is like telling us you're done with this. Believe me, I understand. I almost envy you. I certainly don't blame you. Every time someone announces their denial, the curtain around us closes a little more.
But that's not my issue.
Every time someone announces their disbelief of 159.9 Scrapper goes berserk. He beats the steering wheel and rants about the hypocrisy of people and their prayers. You cannot imagine the effort it takes to keep him from blurting out...”SO! Instead of saying “praise God” because all those prayers you promised us were answered, it's just “hell no, it wasn't real to begin with because God couldn't possibly heal pancreatic cancer and why would He?”
That's just the beginning of his rant. Just when I think he's exhausted himself I try to explain the fatigue factor and then the Comic jumps in and does his entire repertoire on Religion, followed by Otis' reflections on the nature of human beings. And then Scrapper announces he's going to shove their piss poor faith right up their dogma. THEN. It starts to get ugly.
At the end of it all I'm exhausted and one more person closer to isolation. Last weekend I slept. It was a three day weekend, and I slept through it all. By Tuesday morning my eyelids felt glued shut to my eyeballs because I was that dehydrated from sleeping rather than taking food or fluids. I managed to rally to attend my oldest granddaughter's first birthday party. Other than that, I slept. This weekend I'll have to rally and attend my youngest granddaughter's first birthday party, but other than that, I might just sleep. Rich is self-sustaining (he even golfed on Thursday). If we're all going to live in denial, my drug of choice is sleep. Because there's a mustard seed under my mattress. And this is why I don't go to church, or join a group of like-minded definers of God. People talk about prayers and faith like they talk about space travel—they know it happens on some level but they have no fucking clue how it works, AND it's happening to someone else.
If people spent less time thinking the Dogma and more time feeling the Spirit I might be able to get with their programs. As it is, I'm just fine behind the curtain. Rich is so consumed by the miracle that he doesn't have time to notice doubt and denial. That's our deal. His job is to heal, my job is everything else.
So here's the deal. I don't have the luxury of denying the cancer, so how dare you deny the miracle? I'm sorry you're fatigued with the process. Feel free to take a break. You're certainly not obligated in any way. No, no, don't worry, I'll get the grass cut. Just please step back and say nothing. I can deal with the struggle to get where we are, but I am really starting to resent having to defend what we've accomplished as being real.
See, I've always thought prayers came in two parts. First the Application, Second the Acknowledgment. Whether the answer to the prayer was yes, no or wait, I followed with Acknowledgment of Thank you for the Yes, Thank you for the No and the strength and understanding, or Thank you for the Lesson the wait will bring me. Is it just me?
Ignore me. I'm just waiting for the happy pills to kick in while maneuvering the consequential minefield of horrific GI distress that the happy pills bring. I've got several lovely sewing/quilting projects in the works but right now I just want to take a nap.
It's the Fatigue Factor. Currently at Def-Con 8
